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“I was in the shower,” he said and opened the door. “Come in and make yourself at home. I’ll just go...” He looked down at himself. “Grab a robe, would be a good start. Five minutes,” he said and trotted to the stairs.
It was possible he was going to try to sneak out the back, but he didn’t seem concerned I was there. Or he was a very good actor. Vampires weren’t the only ones who could use glamour.
I glanced around the house, found the front room mostly empty. Large and beautifully maintained for a house as old as this one, but empty. The space was at least thirty feet long. There was a sofa beside a gleaming malachite fireplace. An old-fashioned secretary, the top closed and locked. Boxes marked with room names, still taped. A lamp, its cord wrapped around the base. The few items were dwarfed by the remaining emptiness.
Two minutes later, there were footsteps on the stairs, the house creaking as if each step was a note, and then behind me.
I glanced back. Jonathan wore trousers and a V-neck sweater in a thin, dark fabric that looked very expensive. His feet were bare. A vulnerability. One he offered on purpose to show me he was relaxed?
“You just moved in?” I asked casually.
“Three weeks ago, actually.” He walked in, ran a hand down the fluted molding that framed the door. “This house had been on the market for an hour when I learned it was available. I’d planned to rent until I was settled, but couldn’t pass it up.”
“It’s not hard to see why. It’s a beautiful space.”
“It is. Extravagant for one person, but beautiful all the same.” He walked toward me, and I made a show of finishing my circle of the room, gaze on the ceiling. I didn’t trust him, and certainly not enough to put myself in a corner without an exit.
In fairness, the ceiling was gorgeous—large tiles of pressed silver metal that reflected the light of a delicate raindrop chandelier.
I made it to the room’s threshold, leaned against it, and looked back at him. He stood in front of the fireplace, hands in his pockets, his expression a mask of cool reserve.
Time to make a play. “Can we skip the chitchat and posturing and get to the point? I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
For an instant, his eyes widened in surprise, before settling back into reserved lines, but his smile was wide, sly. He tilted his head and let the veil of magic slip away.
The man who stood before me now looked the same, but the power he’d hidden had become very clear. It roared around him like an angry sea, waves crashing against hard and ancient stone.
I swallowed back a bolt of lust. Not for the man, but for a drink. I knew in that moment, certain as I was of my own heart, that his blood would be... intoxicating. Potent, imbued with power. The monster agreed, and shifted inside in a way that made me not entirely comfortable.
None of it was comfortable. And watching him, seeing that minute shift as the wave settled, I realized the bloodlust had been a trick of magic, too.
“A neat little trick,” I said, when I was certain my voice wouldn’t shake.
He gestured toward his ear. “It’s the elvish.”
“The hiding, or the unveiling?”
He smiled. “Both. Many find the magic distracting or the power... discomforting.”
“Because it’s greater than theirs?”
He nodded. “And revealing it can be a powerful tool. A seductive one.”
Maybe there was a little incubus along with the elvish, I thought, but wasn’t going to flatter him by asking.
“Now that we’ve skipped the posturing,” Jonathan said, stepping forward. “What can I do for you?”
“Blake.”
His expression didn’t change, but for the slight flattening of his mouth. “The vampire who was killed?”
“We’ve skipped the posturing,” I reminded him.
Silence. “What do you want to know?”
“You met with him in the Brass & Copper building shortly before his death.”
Much to my surprise, he smiled. “Very astute. Security cameras, I presume?”
